I am the Avatar
by Thereisnosaurus
Summary: A first person present perspective as Korra walks to the cliff. This is a reflexive piece examining Korra's understanding of what being the avatar means, her self-recrimination and despair. Those who find the latter part of the fic a little confusing should read up on the concept of oneness/universal perspective which was used heavily to frame the spiritual side of the Avatar.


I am the Avatar. I am the one who is meant to watch over the world, to guard the spirits of my people and the soul of the land. I exist to save the world. I cannot.

I take a step across the snow and the icy crust of pristine, twice frozen powder crunches underfoot, untouched by any but the wind and frozen sun. I delighted in this once, when I was still a girl. The crispness of snow like this was a joy, the unvisited expanses of my homeland were mine and mine alone, at least that is what I told myself as I played amongst the snowdrifts. Now I see it in a different light, cold and unforgiving, the salt tang of crashing waves bitter on my tongue. I left this land a girl and I return a cripple. I am the Avatar, and so my land is crippled too.

Another step and I see the horizon beyond the cliffs, a shining slit in grey blue on blue grey. It wavers as the wind drags tears from my eyes. I resist the urge to wipe them and look away, it doesn't matter now. I can no longer feel the vastness of the ocean ahead, nor the beautiful crystal weave of the snow spreading out around me. The sun does not fill me with warmth as once it did and the earth itself no longer welcomes my feet through its gown of ancient snow. Only the wind speaks to me now, hissing through teeth that rasp at my face, licking up my tears. I feel its dismay, its pity. I do not deserve even that. I am the Avatar no longer.

A third step, aching and tired. I still feel Katara's hands holding me, strong and gentle as she practised her art, calling to what was not there. I couldn't look at her face, I know what I would have seen. Concern shrouded in quiet grace. It would have shattered what little hold left I have on myself.

Even now I cling to my pride, even when all reason for pride has been taken from me. I come here, away from everyone, before I will let myself shed a tear. I should have listened to her, back before I left. Back when she told me I must learn tranquillity. She said to let the waters of the world flow through me, for water always knows where it must go. It never needs to be controlled, only guided, she said. I did not listen. I was the Avatar.

I should have listened to Zuko too, the letter he sent years ago. I remember learning the forms of the sun that were his creation. The feeling of strength and purpose they gave me still so clear after all this time, the surging energy of lightning as it was drawn from deep within to my hands, brighter than sunlight on ice. Blinding bright. I see now that he, at least, learned from Katara. He wanted me to master the dragon's way, his uncle's way, before his own. Even as what Katara showed him gave him the keys to bringing his people's art to new heights, he must have known in the end it was the flame inside that mattered and tried to warn me. I was so sure back then, I never thought I would need a fire of my own that burned on through the night though battered and dimmed. I had the quicksilver surge of power in my grasp and the strength of the sun blazing through my limbs, what could ever take that away? Now there is nothing but cold inside me, I have nothing which to warm my heart.

One last step and I stand on the edge. Far below me turgid waters roll against the ice. For a moment I think I hear them call to me as they once did, but it is only my own mind and the voice is colder than the arctic sea. 'Embrace the water one last time', it says. 'Let it take you to some place quiet and dark. Your legend is over. You know what must be done. You know, as all things born of water do, where you must go. You are the Avatar, you exist to save the world. You know what needs to be done.'

I cannot do it.

Korra. Selfish, childish Korra. I listened to the old stories and I wanted my own. I thought all I needed was the power to shape the world. I was the Avatar after all. All I had to do was the right thing. Now the stories come back to me and I realise that what made the old legends was what they did in their time of weakness, not in the fullness of their strength. I am not the Avatar. I am Korra. I have always been Korra. All the Avatar has ever been in me is my tool. I took the child of the world and spent it doing what I felt needed to be done, what little Korra felt would be most grand. I never let it grow. Now it is all but dead inside me, spent and stillborn. I feel a little bitter relief that Mako will not have to live with me. I would have been a terrible mother.

I cough and my gorge rises, gagging on the foul taste of my pride. I hiccough a great gout of it into the frozen air and the tears can no longer be held back. I stumble away from the edge of the cliff and collapse, hiding my streaming eyes. I cannot bear even the wind to see me like this. Still a child, still afraid of what tears mean to my teachers, my enemies, my friends. Myself. Me. It's always about Korra. Everything I have done only makes the pain worse. All my training only makes the sobs harder, sharper. My jaw aches around gritted teeth and my fingers clutch at my pants, digging painfully into flesh. I have the power to make myself suffer for what I have done, at least.

I cannot bear to think, to imagine what comes next. Though I am at the lowest I have ever been, the only paths from here lead down. The faces of my friends slide behind my burning eyes. In the darkness I see through other eyes for an eternal moment, I see them face what I have faced. I see them ready to sacrifice what I have lost, willingly, to aid me. What do they see in me? That I was the Avatar, was that all it took for them to be able to deal with this? To have something, someone who they could spend themselves to become just a part of? I am not worthy of them, of any of them. All I have ever been is myself.

Somehow, through my closed eyes and clenched arms I catch a glimpse of saffron. Tenzin. He followed me, of course he did. I cannot even muster up the strength to be annoyed with him, all I can think is that I cannot bear for him to see me like this.

I lift my head, drying my eyes with a swipe against my shaking arm and look away, pushing his presence from the corner of my eye, yet it remains.

My voice shakes and comes out broken "Not now, Tenzin. I just want to be left alone"

He replies in a strange voice, as if somehow thirty years had dropped from his shoulders.

"But you called me here", he says in a tone as warm as summer wind.

What does he mean? Confusion momentarily draws my eyes from the snow and I turn to look, eyes still clouded with tears. It's not Tenzin.

A man in his late twenties stands there, lit as if some other, brighter sun were shining on him. The land behind him, the snow around him is all blurred and distorted but he is clear and sharp, his saffron and turmeric robes unmoved by the icy wind. I blink to clear my eyes and for a split second he is standing alone in the chaotic dark, unmoved, a quiet smile on his face.

I turn and look up in wonder as he gazes down at me. Something wakes within me at that smile and in awe I say his name.

"Aang"

He beams at me.

"You have finally connected with your spiritual self. When we reach our lowest point, we are open to the greatest change."

I get to my feet, my mind whirling once more. Behind Aang I can suddenly see other shapes, other legends from my childhood stretching out and out over the snow, less clear but no less bright.

Aang reaches for me, gracefully, as if to embrace me. Inside myself, I shrink away for a moment. I move to hide behind the Avatar, as I have always done. I realise too late that it is not there. I am too tired to be afraid, to feel ashamed at my childish thoughts. Suddenly, the urge to cringe from my choices is finally gone.

Aang's arms do not embrace me, but rise to my shoulders, steadying me. A hand brushes my cheek, lifting my eyes to his with an almost imperceptible caress. As it settles on my brow, I let my eyes close, blocking out all the world but Aang and all those who came before. For a moment we stand there in the darkness. Then he begins to glow and warmth washes through me like hot water.

Everything is washed away. The pain in my jaw, the stiffness of my body and the soreness around my eyes. All the guilt, all the fear, every desire I have felt are gone in an instant, leaving only a now that lasts forever. My body forgotten, I stand beside a thousand children, each afraid and each unsure of who they are, light pouring from them as their own thoughts blend with mine. Together we realise the truth.

Around us the world turns, each part is driven by all the others, and in turn drives all else. Far away from our desires and our attachments, we find that in that each part is no longer a part, divided. There is only one. We are all things. I am all things.

No matter how far the Avatar is flung from me, all I need to do to find it is find myself. As easy as that, it is there, as if it had never left. Truthfully, it never did.

In a gentle wave, the others fade away. Last of all is Aang, his golden eyes brilliant in the darkness. I open my own and the world is suddenly clearer, simpler. About me the elements spin in their endless dance, so much more vividly than ever before. The moment of clarity fades as suddenly as it came on. I remember where I am, what brought me here. Only one thing lingers, one certainty.

I am Korra.

I am the Avatar.


End file.
